During the dark hour of trial through which Italy has been passing,
my thoughts have often strayed to Asolo in the Trevisan, the scene
of _Pippa Passes_, by the late ROBERT BROWNING (whom I knew well).
"Italy, what of the night?" wrote my old friend SWINBURNE. "Morning's
at seven!" replies _Pippa_. Those brave words have heartened me a good
deal.